


The Practice Hall

by junosea



Category: One Piece
Genre: Gen, POV Outsider, he's also shit at playing the violin, idk what this is, zoro lives in an orphanage run by brook
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-25
Updated: 2016-09-25
Packaged: 2018-08-17 03:44:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8129171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junosea/pseuds/junosea
Summary: There's blood on the piano, leaking onto the black and white, drip dropping down to the marble floor.





	

There isn't much he can say.

He almost drops his violin, bow gripped tightly in his hands. He'd probably broken it, if the small 'crunch' indicated anything. Brook would tell him off later, but it's not the first time he's ruined his equipment. 

Such a reaction has never been prompted from him before without the help of his aggressive streak.

Two boys sit by a piano. They seem within the range his age group - ten to thirteen, give or take a few years. Both of them seem pretty banged up, each nearly covered from head to toes in cuts, burns and open wounds. 

One of them is laying across the top of the piano. He has a certain vibe to him that Zoro can't place, nor able to figure out if it's a good one. Either way, he's just sprawled there as he lies on his stomach, looking down at the other boy. Zoro doesn't even know him, but it looks like the frown he has should be replaced by a smile and a gleam in his wide eyes. 

Zoro looks at the other one, hunched up on the chair. Looks a bit older, maybe a bit wiser if the way he seems ready to spring goes by anything. Zoro is able to get a closer look at this guy, barely tall enough to glance over the piano's top at this point. One of his legs is twisting into an odd shape, broken. His glance quickly darts away to look at the beads he wears around his neck, feeling a bit sick. His fingers glide across the piano, echoing throughout the hall. It's beautiful.

No one had gone in the practice hall save for Zoro and those two boys; he just came in for violin practice after being bugged about it enough times. He doesn't play very well, still unsure about what's what, how to rest his chin comfortably. When he plays, it closely resembles a tortured cat. The only reason he sticks to it is because Brook would practice sword fighting with him afterwards. 

He's never seen the two boys before, and he's tempted to shout at them before the boy sprawled across the top looks at him with some sort of sad/angry/pissed off expression. It looks haunted and overcast with something he's not sure he understands, which is enough to stop Zoro from glaring back. 

The piano might've stopped him, too.

It echoes, bounces off walls and flows through his ears. Soothing. Zoro doesn't recognise the tune, but it's sad and it hurts. Each pause feels like he's holding a breath, waiting for something to happen. However, it feels too personal, even if the two haven't indicated he should go. It seems they're relieving a recent memory, ripping off the plaster before putting it back on. 

Zoro doesn't question how they managed to get in the orphanage. If they were new, Brook would've got someone to heal them up by now. There's blood on the piano, leaking onto the black and white and drip dropping on the marble floor.

He leaves. They don't spare him a glance. Zoro asks Brook about it, but he, too, is clueless. 

They're gone when he comes back and all that's left is the drip dropping of blood Zoro mops up.


End file.
